Fierce and Fragile Hearts
by Suri.Bright
Summary: It's the 1900's and the gates that keep the demons back have been opened. They are here to destroy all Shadowhunters. James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs have been caught up in the middle of the new battle as they struggle to make a place for themselves in the Shadowhunter world...and in each other's hearts. (Read description in chapter one. Post-TID)
1. Chapter 1

**_Fierce and Fragile Hearts  
_**

_Chapter 1  
_

_**Author's Note: **This is a James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs story. Little to nothing is known about them, but I have a feeling that we're going to fall irrevocably in love with this Herondale when we see Cassie use him._

_Cassandra Clare says the children of Tessa will have special "talents". Yet since we do not know that those are, I'm making some up for James and (his sister) Lucie. When the books come out for these characters, feel free to smite me. Until then, free reign, baby!_

_Until then, I have no idea what he or Cordelia are supposed to be like. This me, and my take on them. Any questions, comments or concerns, let me know!_

* * *

Cordelia Carstairs wandered around the London Institute on her own, glass of wine in hand. Casting a glance at the great grandfather clock in the hallway, Cordelia let out a soft sigh. The summer night was still young. She knew sooner or later that someone would find her, she would have to smile, make small talk, and be engaging.

None of these things were bad, it was just…Cordelia was in the middle of composing a new piece for the piano and she feared that she would forget her progress by the time the ball was over and she would have to start from scratch.

Twice a year, during Christmas and summer, her family travelled from Idris to spend time in the London Institute with the Herondale and Lightwood family. Cordelia was told that she once had a cousin that was Will Herondale's _parabatai_, although he had passed away. Her father felt the need to maintain relations with the Herondale family in order to honor her late cousin's memory. Often times, she found herself wondering about this mysterious cousin, especially whenever her father heard her play piano and would say her musical abilities would be on par with Jem's.

"Hiding from the party, Miss Carstairs?"

"Am I that obvious," Cordelia asked, a smile already tugging at her lips, knowing the low voice behind her.

James Herondale strolled down the hallway toward Cordelia with a light smirk playing at his lips. His dark hair curled over his forehead, making his pale amber eyes that were already bright with mischief seem brighter. "As plain as day, Miss Carstairs."

"Rats, I'll have to find a better hiding place," said Cordelia, tucking one of her dark blonde curls behind her ear. She peered up at James with her hazel eyes and quirked an eyebrow at the boy who was one year older than her 17 years.

"And why aren't _you_ at the party, Mr. Herondale," Cordelia countered. "You're denying the girls a chance of a foxtrot that could lead to marriage."

"Ah yes, Miss Pangborn and Miss Hightower are awaiting my presence, but I had to deny them such pleasure and come after you. Your father is worried that you might have snuck off with a scoundrel."

"So he sent you to look for me," said Cordelia with a laugh, "the king of scoundrels and scallywags."

James bent at the waist into a bow, straightening up at the sound of Cordelia's laugh. He had known the girl for years since her family remained close to his. His eyes travelled up and down the length of her body, admiring the pale pink and gold gown she wore for the summer ball. James offered his arm for Cordelia. "I can see why you hide in this hallway," said James his eyes moving along portraits of old Shadowhunters. "Our histories are an interesting thing."

Cordelia gently rested her arm around James's and allowed him to escort her back to the party downstairs. "They are," she agreed.

"It's good to know the stories of our past so they can't come back and haunt us in the future," James added. As he led her down the stairway he noticed the eyes of several young women following his every move, eyeing Cordelia with jealousy. He also noticed that some young men were watching Cordelia and would shoot hard looks in James's direction.

James knew he was attractive and enjoyed getting the most rise out of people. After all, what was life without excitement? James bent to whisper in Cordelia's ear, pleased that he didn't have to bend terribly far in comparison with other girls. "I should warn you, miss Carstairs, that you've caught the eye of two suitors, Kingsmill and Aldertree."

Cordelia rolled her eyes, "nothing but arrogant pricks with little more to say except how many demons they've killed or parroting what their fathers say."

James laughed out loud at Cordelia's sudden distaste. "So you wouldn't care that I killed 3 demons this past week?"

"Not one bit."

James held a hand to his heart, as if wounded by her words. "What must a man do to impress you, Cordelia," James asked, switching to her Christian name.

"Well," said Cordelia with a mischief smile of her own. "He must stop bragging about himself long enough to get to know me, and secondly," Cordelia lowered her voice so that only James would hear her. "He mustn't fear ducks."

"They are vicious creatures! Have you ever had one chase you," James protested as Cordelia laughed. "It's not funny," he adamantly insisted.

"If you say so," said Cordelia, removing her arm from James's when she saw her parents. Giving her escort a slight curtsy she left her wine glass at a table before going to greet her mother and father.

James watched as Cordelia weaved her way through the crowd, a gentle blur of pale pink and gold. James had to admit that Cordelia was different from the other girls he had met. Many girls listened to him and marvel at his stories, laughing at his jokes at all the right moments, though with Cordelia he had to work to make her laugh. She questioned what he said and challenged what he believed. She was a refreshing breath that was easy on his eyes.

Scanning the crowd, James looked to see that his sister was conversing with their Lightwood cousins, laughing at a joke one of them had said.

"Enjoying yourself?" James turned as a hand touched his shoulder. Will Herondale smiled at his son, who was just as tall as him. The older Herondale male had laugh lines around his deep blue eyes and a quick smile. James knew he looked a lot like his father except for his eyes. His eyes neither came from his mother or father.

"I am," said James. "The girls are lovely but I'm not one for these balls."

"You are my son," said Will, as though he doubted James. As head of the Institute, it was his job to host these events. It was stressful sending out invitations, planning the food courses, the entertainment…usually Tessa helped him with all of that. Aside for the Institute, Will knew exactly how his son felt, but he knew it was important to keep ties between all the families.

"Glad to know you are proud of my reclusive ways," said James.

"You, my son, are many things," said Will with a laugh, "but a "recluse" is not one of them. I'd try arrogant with a hint of elitism."

"It's a wonder you haven't disowned me," said James, with a slight smirk. James and his father shared the same dark humor that often left Tessa rolling her eyes and walking away from her boys.

"Only because I love your mother, I keep you as a favor to her."

"Bless her soul," said James, knowing how much his father loved his mother. Often times, James caught Will simply staring at Tessa as she sat by a window reading a book. Or he'd notice the way his parents were always in contact by holding hands and other subtle touches. James wasn't one to commit to a single girl, no matter how hard his father tried to change that in him, but he hoped that one day that would—"

A scream from the front door of the Institute halted the party as everyone turned, shocked by the sound. James and Will ran to the front door to see what the commotion was.

There, a woman lay, her pale green dress covered in blood, her eyes wild with terror. Will ran to help the woman up. "Mrs. Penhallow," Will said, trying to get the attention of the hysterical woman. "What has happened."

"D-demons," she eventually stuttered out. "Two blocks from here, my, my husband. Oh God—" She broke into sobs.

Tessa had arrived to help Will steady the sobbing woman. Already, James was jumping into action, a seraph blade seemingly produced out of nowhere. "I'll be back, Father."

"Be careful, James," Tessa called after her son, her heart lurching every time her children rushed into battle.

Following James were a couple other young shadowhunters, producing weapons that they had hidden among their nice suits.

From several feet away, Cordelia saw James and two other boys follow him. Moving to join the group, she was stopped by her father, gripping her arm.

"Cordelia, no, you can't go. Let the men handle it."

"Let me go," said Cordelia, pleading with her father. "I can help, I know I can. I've brought my daggers!"

"You're in a dress!"

"I'm still a better fighter than some men with or without a dress!"

Finally Elias Carstairs relented. He reached into his pocket and produce a seraph blade. "Sanvi," was all he said as he watched his daughter run off.

James and the two other shadowhunters finally found where Mrs. Penhallow had said she ran from. There they saw the slain body of her husband and a group of a dozen demons wreaking havoc in the night. James had never seen a group of demons so big gathered to one place.

"Look, young ones," a demon said, noticing the three boys. "Maybe they'll put up a better fight than that old nephilim."

"Fan out," James said as he charged forward after one demon, his seraph blade blazing into the night. Without a moment to spare he drove the blade straight through the chest of a demon, ichor spraying over his vest and shirt as he extracted the blade. The demon yelled in pain before it crumpled to the ground, dead.

"Well done, young Herondale," said another demon, chuckling as one of his comrades was slain. James heard one of the two boys with him yell out in pain, but he kept his eyes trained on the demon before him.

"You were interrupting a rather important party," said James, holding his blade defensively in front of him. "I hope your attacks were important enough to die for."

"Cheeky, just like your father," the demon cackled before it went to lash out after James. James jumped back, narrowly avoiding the attack.

"What does my father have to do with your attacks?"

"Not just your father, young Herondale, but all of your kind," the demon spat. "Never forget us. The door has been opened. We will never rest until the last Shadowhunter is slain."

As the demon lashed out, James noticed that he was caught between the demon in front of him and the demon that had managed to sneak up behind him. Cursing angrily, he looked to his comrades to see that both were engaged in a fierce battle with a demon twice their height.

James raised the blade in his hand and spun on his heel facing the demon behind him, and drove his seraph blade into the demon's chest. Just as he was about to face the demon that spoke to him, a dagger whizzed over the top of his head and into the skull of the demon that had talked.

Turning, James saw Cordelia with another dagger raised, ready to be thrown.

"Cordelia!"

"I believe you own me for saving your life," said Cordelia, her chest heaving from her run to catch up. She carefully took deep breaths, fighting away the light-headedness that her tight corset had caused.

"You should have stayed behind," James said, sudden worry for her twisting his insides.

"Not when I know I could be helpful here," said Cordelia, quickly putting away her dagger and bringing her father's seraph blade to life.

James opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it again as one of the demon's cry pierced the night. Half of the demons were slain, leaving 6 left to destroy.

"They're trying to retreat," one of the boys, George Aldertree, said. Cordelia noticed that he had a gashing on his right arm, staining the white of his shirtsleeve. The other Shadowhunter, Brian Kingsmill, was relatively unharmed.

"Don't let them get away," said James, running after what was left of their pursuers, causing Cordelia, Brian, and George to run after him. As they ran, Cordelia noticed they were running through an alleyway. Noticing a stack of crates, Cordelia jumped onto the crates and up a metal ladder, pulling herself up to the rooftops. From her vantage point, she sprinted as fast as she could to catch up to the demons.

Once parallel to one a large slimy demon that was the furthest from James, Cordelia jumped from the rooftop and onto the demons back, tackling it to the ground. The demon roared in surprised, twisting itself out of Cordelia's grasp. As Cordelia raised her father's blade, the demon knocked it out of her hand, and several feet from her.

Reaching into her bodice, Cordelia drew her dagger, intending to imbed her weapon where the demon's heart would be. Catching her wrist, with a swift easy motion, the demon snapped her hand back, causing the bones in her muscle to break.

Cordelia bit down on her bottom lip, refusing to cry out in pain. The demon chuckled at her limp hand. "You won't be killing me today, nephilim filth" he hissed.

Ignoring the demon's taunts, Cordelia switched the dagger into her other hand, quickly driving it into the demon's heart. The demon screamed in pain as Cordelia withdrew her dagger. Though, before it died, the demon lashed out with its claws, slashing deep into Cordelia's stomach, straight through her dress.

Cordelia looked down on the wound given to her, grimacing as her blood began to seep through. Stumbling back against the brick wall, Cordelia pushed back her dark blonde hair that had fallen from its up-do. Checking her bodice, she realized that she had forgotten her stele.

She looked to see all three of the boys locked in battle with one final demon. As Brian Kingsmill delivered the final blow, James left the group and ran toward Cordelia. He paled upon seeing the blood staining the front of her dress.

"Cordelia!"

The girl looked up and smiled at him gently. Taking a step toward him, James notice her stumble, and quickly he caught her before she could hit the ground.

"Cori," James murmured, a nickname he had given to her when they were kids because he couldn't quite same her name.

"I forgot my stele," Cordelia muttered, watching as James produced his and began to draw an iratze on the exposed part of her porcelain chest, closest to her heart. Cordelia watched as James flushed slightly at where his hand was, but he knew that the best place to put an iratze was closest to one's heart.

James gingerly inspected Cordelia's broken wrist, as color began to rise back into Cordelia's cheeks. "Will you be able to walk back to the Institute," he asked.

"I should be," said Cordelia straightening up. She was still winded because of her blasted corset. "I'll just have to take it slow."

James nodded and put his arm around her shoulders, intending to guide her all the way back to the Institute as Kingsmill and Aldertree followed behind them. "I must tell my father about these demons," he said. "Before you arrived a demon told me that the gates have been opened. I have no idea what he meant."

Cordelia shook her head, not knowing what to make of it either.

"You should have stayed with the others," said Aldertree, one of the boys interested in Cordelia.

Cordelia laughed and shook her head. "I can't. If I am born into a Shadowhunter family, I can't sit around and pretend I'm not born to fight."

* * *

**Author's Note: Well..super spoilery for all of you who don't know about Will/Tessa...  
**

**Let's see where this goes! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Fierce and Fragile Hearts  
_**

_Chapter 2  
_

**Author's Note: NEW PENNAME AND STORY NAME! Previously, I was "xxAneres", but I decided to change that. There will come a day in which I might want to publish stories. Instead of giving you my real name, I want a pen name. For now, call me Suri_Bright. What was once "Middle of My Heart" is now "Fierce and Fragile Hearts". Same story. New name. ****J Also, please be sure to read the author's note at the end.**

* * *

With the last of the guests finally gone, the Herondales, the Lightwoods, and the Carstairs all gathered in the sitting room. Each of the respective families present either stood alone in various nooks in the room or remained clustered with their immediate relatives.

Cordelia had been given a new dress to wear, a simple light blue piece, since her stunning gown had been ruined in the fight. Her mother sat beside her, cooing over Cordelia's still tender wrist. The _iratzes_ had done an amazing job at healing her wrist and stomach, but still Cordelia knew she needed to take it easy for at the very least a day to be completely healed.

"My poor darling," said Colette, Cordelia's mother, gingerly inspecting her daughter's healing wrist. The woman had a slight French accent; while she had spent the last few years in Idris, where she met Elias, she had been born in Paris, where her family currently oversees the Paris Institute. Cordelia managed a smile before taking her wrist back from her mom and carefully held it in her lap. Cordelia noticed that she looked very similar to her mom. They shared the same blonde curls, pale pink lips, graceful airs, and porcelain skin. From her father she had gotten his height, being a couple inches taller than the average girl, and yet there was still something different about Cordelia that didn't match up quite with her parents. She had high cheekbones, and something about her eyes, when caught in a certain light, vaguely reminded the Herondale family of someone they knew.

"I'm fine, Mother," Cordelia repeated for the fourth time that night.

"You could have been killed," Colette insisted.

"That's the prince of being a Shadowhunter," Cordelia answered back, unrelenting. "To protect the lives of others before your own."

"_Mon Dieu_," Colette muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. She was glad that her daughter had been given formal self-defense training in case a situation would ever arise in which she needed to use it, but she never thought her only girl would be so _interested_ in it.

"I already have Gideon on his way to inform Charlotte of this attack," Will said, calling the occupants of the room into attention. "I trust James's and Cordelia's word of what the demon had said, and for now, all we can do is wait." The years, and having raised two children, had taken the rashness out of Will. With Tessa's help he had become more strategic and a shadow of the headstrong and impulsive kid he used to be.

James stood by the fire, away from the rest of the group. He had done his part that night. He had slayed the demons, and rescued the girl, and by rescuing the girl, he had done _more_ than his share that night. He frowned slightly, absently rubbing an old scar on his chest through his shirt. The scar was three years old and still slightly raised, two inches from his heart, the last time he did _more _than enough. Now James regarded his father with his cool, amber-eyed stare.

"You suggest then, Father," said James, speaking up for the first time since they arrived back to the Institute. "That we wait until someone else is attacked? We hide like Mundanes until someone else is killed?"

"James," Tessa said sternly. Tessa had not aged a day. Even though her children knew she was their mother, and their father's age, some day they could not take her seriously, solely because she looked like them. "That is no way to talk to your father." Tessa placed a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Is that it," Will asked coolly, the light-hearted jokes from earlier that night forgotten, "do you have anything else to say?"

James could feel heat rise to his cheeks as he knew all eyes in the room watched the exchange between father and son. For those who had known Will the longest, to them, it looked as though Will was talking with the ghost of his past, giving Cecily, who remained silent at Gabriel's side, the chills.

Determined not to be treated like a child, James pressed on. "No," he said, standing straight. "Aunt Char—_The Clave_, has been contacted. While they will get to us as soon as they can, I think we should go in pursuit of this gate. The sooner the better."

"I agree with cousin James," said a voice from beside Cecily.

All eyes turned to a young dark-haired woman with green-blue eyes, a couple years older than James, who would have had a beautiful, angular face had she not had an angry scar running across the left side of her temple to the right side of her chin and all the way down her neck. She was Cecily and Gabriel's oldest child, and James's favorite cousin. James fought the lurching feeling he got every time he looked at Anna now.

"I believe there is a physical gate that has been opened," said Anna confidently. "I suggest we gather everyone in this room, split up and search."

"You are all acting rash," said Colette, her French accent getting thicker the more emotional she got. "You can be killed. After what happened tonight—"

"We cannot hide, Mama," Cordelia said gently, noticing her mother would work herself into a frenzy. Cordelia didn't understand. She knew her mother was a capable fighter at best, but ever since she got married, her mother refused to continue her training, fighting only in the most fire of circumstances. "It is our _birthright_."

Will fought the urge to rub at his temples as he felt the on-set of a headache coming. "We will give it two days," he finally said. "The Clave has two days to respond. If they don't we will find this gate. ..If there is one to find. Can I count on all of you?"

Elias was about to pledge is help, but Colette took his hand and give him a firm look. Instead, Elias shook his head at his wife. "If you need me, you know I'll be here."

"Thank you, Elias," Will said.

"Your family is welcome to stay as long as you like," added Tessa, knowing that they had more than enough room. These days, since her children were growing older, Tessa learned that she enjoyed having company over just to fill the halls with noise to keep the sometimes painful silences away.

"As will I," said Cordelia firmly. Her older brother Alistair had gone back to Idris earlier that night, escorting his frantic fiancée. She knew, had he been there, he too would have pledged his help.

"No, you cannot, you are baby," Colette exclaimed.

"I'm 17!"

"You _cannot_!"

Cordelia rose from her seat, biting her bottom lip painfully hard to keep from yelling at her mother. "_I will_," she answered in a careful voice. With a sigh, Cordelia began to speak in French. "Mama, you were not there tonight. They need every hand available, and I know what we're up against. James is right, we cannot wait around."

Colette looked away from her daughter, her hands folded in her lap. Her delicate eyebrows knit together in thought. Finally Colette responded in English. "They grow up so fast," she said in a voice just as calm as Cordelia's. Unhappily, Colette gave her permission. Despite how hard Cordelia fought against the image Colette had always wanted for her daughter, she could not be more proud of how strong her daughter was. In her heart she knew that Cordelia would always make the right choices.

"It has been quite an exciting night," said Gideon Lightwood, standing from his seat beside his wife and children. "But I believe everyone is very tired and it would do us all a bit of good if we turned in for the night." Gideon bade goodnight to all the occupants of the room, as did his immediate family, and left.

After Gideon's departure, the rest of the families began to follow suit. Cordelia furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at James who did remained by the fire, not making eye contact with anyone. For as long as Cordelia had known him, James had always kind of been like that. He seemed to prefer time on his own to be with his thoughts. As a child, she thought nothing of it, for whenever anyone would talk to James, even if it was reluctantly, he would let people into his world. In recent years, it seemed that James had retreated so far and had erected fences so high that Cordelia wondered if he even saw the sky as he kept everyone at a sword's length away, fending off concern behind bright smiles that fooled almost everyone.

"Good night, Mother, Father," Cordelia said kissing both her parents on the cheek. She took her mother's hand, and kissed it gently, offering her mom an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for fighting you."

Elias smiled as he watched the two best women in his life. Colette gently stroked her daughter's cheek with her thumb. "You have quite the spirit, my girl," said Colette. She had already forgiven her daughter long ago.

"Thank you, Mama. I will be up to bed shortly."

The room emptied, as Tessa and Will were the last to leave. Cordelia offered a smile to them as they left. Now all that remained were James and Cordelia.

"How is your wrist," asked James, staring into the orange flames. He became aware of the swishing sound Cordelia's skirts made as she ambled over to him. Because of his mother's blood, among other talents, his ordinary 5 senses were even more acute than the best of Shadowhunters.

"It's bothersome," answered Cordelia, gently moving the fingers of her right hand, grimacing lightly at the pain it caused to her wrist. "But it will be fine." Cordelia paused a couple feet away from James, as he refused to look at her. There was a time when James would share the world in his head with her.

"And you," Cordelia asked. "Did you get injured?"

"No."

"James."

"You should go back to Idris."

It was the first time since they got back to the Institute that James would make eye contact with her. Cordelia stilled at his request. James's amber eyes were cold, despite the dancing flames from the hearth that reflected in them.

"Go home," he repeated.

"I won't," Cordelia said, not bothering to hide how offended she was. "If you expect me to walk away after what I saw tonight you must be mad! And if you remember correctly, James Herondale, I saved your life!"

"If we go in search of this gate, you'll be a liability. You demonstrated that earlier tonight by fighting with your mom."

Immediately Cordelia felt her face flush as James's accusation. James had spoken in such a cold and emotionless manner that Cordelia did not know whether she was angrier by his accusation or more hurt by his tone.

"Luckily for you, Mr. Herondale," Cordelia said in a sweet tone, her face a stony mask. "Fighting does not involve talking. Get used to seeing me around." With a swish of her light blue dress, Cordelia held her head high as she left the room, leaving James alone.

"Corrie," he muttered angrily under his breath. She always seemed to know what to say to get under his skin. Back in the years when she was once all arms and legs, without the curves she had now, whenever they argued there would come a point where she would stop arguing with him, eventually giving her the win. Then again, she also always knew what to say and do to make him feel brave, even when he didn't want her to.

James continued to stare into the empty space where Cordelia once stood before he closed his eyes, willing his heart to harden against the natural urge to ask for her forgiveness, to make her laugh, and win her favor again. Instead he sighed, opened his eyes and settled himself into a large armchair next to the dying fire, mentally patching the hole in his protective walls that always seemed to crumble against a certain pair of hazel eyes.

Cordelia did not head to the room she was staying in. Instead, she went to the piano room. Moonlight spilled from the large windows across the grand piano that was the main attraction of the room. Sitting on the piano bench, Cordelia gently ran her fingers over the cool, glossy keys.

When she walked away from James every bit of her wanted to tell him that she was done, she wouldn't wait for him to stop being so self-centered. Though now that she had walked away she realized how untrue those words were. While the words he spat out at her still stung she chose to push the ache away. People changed, that much she knew, but she didn't believe that one day familiar people would turn into strangers.

Sitting up straight, Cordelia folded her right hand in her wrist and poised her left hand over the keys. Closing her eyes, she switched between playing the simple cords and melodies of the song she had begun to compose. As her fingers danced over the keys, Cordelia opened her eyes as she realized she was not alone.

"James," she called, hoping it was James coming to apologize, "James? Is that you?"

The door to the piano room creaked open and Tessa appeared. Cordelia smiled sheepishly. "Sorry," she said. "I forgot people are asleep."

"That's quite alright," Tessa said smiling. "You have a natural gift. It's beautiful."

"Thank you," Cordelia said, rising from the piano bench. "I should probably return to my room now."

"Your uncle Jem Carstairs, whom James was named after, was a great violinist, and an equally great friend and Shadowhunter."

"So you were close."

"We were," said Tessa, not elaborating. "He was Will's _parabatai_."

Cordelia sucked in a breath. She did not have a parabatai, but she knew that losing one was among the worst pains in the Shadowhunter world.

"Your eyes remind me of him," Tessa said with a laugh. "I don't understand why. He was half Chinese and his eyes were more like his mother's." Tessa shook her head. "Whenever you and James argue, I sometimes see Will and Jem, debating about pointless things. Jem would usually win. He had this way about him that didn't require force, and he won many arguments that way."

Cordelia smiled, "I suppose I could take a lesson from him then."

"Perhaps," agreed Tessa, "but despite your similarities, you are not Jem, and you've made a place for yourself."

"Just like James isn't Will."

There was a pregnant pause before Cordelia realized what she had said. Her hand flew to her mouth and her cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Herondale. I didn't mean it, I—"

"No, that's quite alright," said Tessa, holding a hand up to stop Cordelia. "You are absolutely right. James is James and Will is Will."

Cordelia nodded. "Well," she said. "Good night, then."

"Good night, dear."

Tessa watched as Cordelia hurried out of the room, no doubt feeling guilt for her candid comment. Tessa had heard James and Cordelia arguing; she had gone to check on Lucie when all the families left the room when she heard their voices carrying from the sitting room. Tessa had intended on bringing Cordelia some advice, but instead, it was Cordelia who spoke into her heart.

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**Author's Note: Thanks guys SO much for your reviews…wow, I really hope I don't bring shame to all the Shadowhunter fans! I have a couple things to say: one, someone reviewed and asked about why Jem's dead in this story. Well, for story purposes, Jem is as good as dead to the Carstairs family. I assume, if anything, only the Herondales, Lightwoods, and Charlotte and Henry know about what _really_ happened to Jem. Secondly, if any of you guys have tumblr, be sure to follow Cassandra Clare who posts _actual_ stuff about James Herondale from time to time! This is me, loving on James Herondale and who I think he would be until Cassandra Clare brings him to life! Thanks again! Also, I always choose really difficult times in life to start stories. With 5 weeks left of the semester and SO much work to do, please bear with me and understand that while I LOVE to write, I have priorities, like exams, presentations, papers, work, and social events. Finally, looking at the family tree…I made one error (when I started writing, my friend was borrowing the book so I did not have a reference). It will be…resolved…in the coming chapters.**


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